Written Fate
by moonlit-shadow0x
Summary: War approaches Hogwarts, and attacks plague the castle... However, Harry soon finds he has his own savior, helping him protect Hogwarts through a series of anonymous letters. At the same time, attraction begins to occur for the most unlikely person. HPDM
1. Madesco

**Title: **Written Fate

**Rating: **Mature

**Warnings: **Slash, violence, graphic

**Summary: **Hogwarts is never normal. The war approaches Harry Potter, and attacks plague the castle leaving a foreboding feeling in their wake. However, Harry soon finds he has his own saviour, helping him protect Hogwarts through a series of anonymous letters, while at the same time a growing attraction begins to occur within him for the most unlikely candidate.

**Authors Note: **I've been very excited to start a new story, as LMW and PA need a lot more inspiration. I'm hoping to get into the swing of writing by allowing myself to write new adventures rather than forcing myself to continue old ones. I will post a new chapter for each very soon, however, and I have three directions written for PA and at least four for LMW, I just can't bring them to perfection. I'll work hard on that, but for now—I bring you my latest obsession.

The story is during Harry's seventh year, but please disregard HBP. Also, I know Seamus is only a half-blood, but it worked out nice this way :)

Hope you guys enjoy!

**Chapter One: **Madesco

x.x.x.x

"Madesco!"

Rivets of water issued from Harry's wand, splashing onto the stone floor and flickering onto school uniforms in miniscule pecks. The water, which held a green tinge, spiraled toward Professor Flitwick, and the small man widened his eyes, before clapping excitedly.

"Very good, Mr. Potter!" He exclaimed, walking over to the scarred boy and clasping him on the shoulder (having to stand on his toes to do so).

Harry blushed, beads of water flowing down his glasses and dripping from his fringe. Shoving his wand back into his robes, he moved back to his seat awkwardly as Flitwick cleaned the classroom with a quick drying spell.

"Right then. Madesco—as Harry just demonstrated—is a spell of the water element, meaning it will only work so long as there is a presence of water." The professor walked over to the elaborate fountain on the far side of his classroom, and the class made little sounds of understanding as they realised the colour of the water matched Harry's spell.

"You're basically controlling the elements!" Flitwick grinned, but it soon turned into a thoughtful expression. "However, if there is a presence of a storm, using such a spell would require more energy than you young ones have, so I wouldn't suggest it. I'm sure Poppy wouldn't appreciate the waves of injured students in her care because of me." He chuckled, before nodding to his door, signaling the class was over.

The blush on Harry's face only grew as the Gryffindors in his class congratulated him on his awe-worthy display. He had learned the spell long ago in his private training with Remus, and had no problem with controlling such a fierce force, but the embarrassment of compliments from the entire student body was magnified compared to the approving nods from his instructor.

The Slytherins, however, chose to sneer at him and for once the Gryffindor was grateful. At least he could glare back, the tint of red on his cheeks withdrawing intensely at their sour expressions.

Of course, Draco Malfoy's sneer was the worst of all, his lip curling in a malicious way and his eyes narrowing, almost accusing.

Rolling his eyes, Harry turned his attention away from the door where the blonde had disappeared and looked back at Hermione and Ron, one who was greatly impressed and the other who was nodding in approval.

"You'd be able to do it too, Ron, had you read the chapter rather than stared at Greengrass all day." Hermione snapped, looking more angered than usual—as Ron hardly ever did his readings.

Ron immediately flushed, throwing his bag over shoulder and sending Hermione a wavering glare. "Oh yeah? I suspect you can do it, then?"

The bushy-haired girl narrowed her eyes, made a 'hmph' sound and turned toward the door, sticking close by Harry's side. "Anyway, Harry, that was really, very impressive. I'm sure you'll do extremely well on your Charms N.E.W.T."

Ron grumbled on Harry's other side, seemingly mocking the other girl, and Harry smiled wearily as they walked down the corridor.

"Don't expect to do better than Hermione, though, mate. She _does_ do her readings, after all." He said mockingly, pushing open the doors to the Great Hall.

Harry let out a sigh, slipping onto the bench next to Dean Thomas and picked up a spoon as Hermione grew defensive to his comment. The emerald-eyed boy soon droned them out, turning to Dean and raising a brow.

"Football?"

The other boy barely looked up from his Sports Article, giving a small nod. Seamus smirked and flicked the darker boy's ear, watching with amusement as his head snapped up with a pained expression, before his fingers reached to soothe his ears.

"What was that for?"

Seamus took a large bite of his shepherd's pie before shrugging. "Time to get your nose out of that paper, I think."

"So you decide to flick my _ear_?" Dean made a face, pulling away from the Irish boy to look at Harry exasperatedly. "I've only been able to play with Finch-Fletchley so far—" Dean's eyes traveled to the Hufflepuff table, landing on Justin. "But he's not very coordinated unfortunately. And since the last time I played with Seamus, he summoned his broom and refused to run after the ball, I was wondering if you were interested in a game later."

Seamus leaned over, waving his fork. "Feetball is very boring, you know, Harry. The net isn't even in the air."

Dean smirked, rolling his eyes briefly, before letting out a startled wail. "FINNIGAN! You've got your food all over my article!"

The boy gave an impish grin, before using his robes to wipe it off. "Have I? I'm really sorry, it's just the pie is extra good today…"

Harry let out a laugh as the two continued to quarrel, "We can play after Transfiguration. I have a Herbology detention with Malfoy later today."

"Oh that's right," Seamus said, actually looking like he was honestly sympathising. "It's not like /you/ were the one throwing puss bulbs at the ferret."

Harry grimaced, remembering the smell of the bulbs soaking into his robes, and nodded. Of course, he had flung Hagrid's _special_ fertilizer at the blonde, and that may have had something to do with the onslaught of remnants of their assignment.

The sound of forks clashing at their table and a sudden absence of buzzing made Harry realise Ron and Hermione were finished with their brawl. Letting his eyes reach them, he frowned slightly when he realised Hermione had actually left the table, the Great Hall doors closing behind her.

Ron looked sheepish, as he stubbornly poured orange juice from himself and turned away from Harry.

"Told her about the study date with Daphne?" Harry asked hesitantly.

The redhead raised a brow, "How did you know?"

Sighing, Harry shrugged, reaching over for the butter.

---

"I am very disappointed that I had to give you both detention… Again." Professor Sprout said wearily, her graying hair springing out from her usual bun.

Malfoy, feeling very much the victim, opened his mouth to disagree with his punishment for the hundredth time that evening. "Professor, really, he's the one that started it—I was only using a defense mechanism, you can't really blame me! He ruined an expensive pair of robes, you know." He said a bit desperately, eyes glancing at the murky mess twining in the flower bed.

Harry glared at the blonde, before shaking his head, "The puss ruined my robes, too, Malfoy. Though, I have to admit, not as badly—considering your aim was off and you missed me almost every time. Good thing you're not a chaser, isn't it?"

Sprout glared at the both of them sternly, holding her hand out for their wands. "I don't want to return and find you both in a bloody heap in the Lotus spurs."

The Slytherin, still glowering at Harry, placed his wand in the wrinkled palm and let out a suffering sigh. "She favours Gryffindors, it's obvious. Snape would have surely taken off points for that comment."

Harry rolled his eyes, walking toward the bed with the Slytherin, pulling on his gloves. "Snape would take points off for me doing _too good_ on an assignment, Malfoy."

The blonde perked, smiling wickedly. "He would, wouldn't he? In that case, I should help you study—then again, I'm sure you're a lost cause. We'll have to find a different way to win the cup this year. Which, we will." He said confidently, going for the same muddy weed Harry was, and pulling it out first, just to spite him.

Harry irately pulled out a smaller one harshly, hoping to fleck mud onto the smug blonde. "By Quidditch? Your chasing skills are better than your seeking ones; maybe you should switch after all."

Looking completely foolish with the bright yellow, plastic gloves and holding a slimy green bundle of weeds, Draco put on his best sinister look. "Why don't you become the chaser, Potter? You'll _obviously_ be a natural, and you do take every chance you get to show off, don't you?"

Picking up the pale of filthy water at his side, Draco flung its contents at Harry in a spout of rage. "Madesco!"

"Augh! Malfoy, you _prick_!"

The blonde laughed heartily, teetering on his balance, held up by his knees, and falling to the floor in a more comfortable position. The pale rolled down the greenhouse floor, landing at Sprout's foot as she walked back into the classroom just in time to see Harry lunge at Draco, the slender boy letting out an indignant squeal as the foggy water dripped off Harry onto him.

"Well, I was wrong about the spurs." Sprout said in a resigned sort of way, though tapped her foot to get their attention as both boys looked toward her suddenly as a unified tangle of limbs on the floor.

x.x.x.x

"Harry!"

Dean caught up with the boy as they were walking out of the Transfiguration classroom, Seamus trudging alongside him carrying an odd package from home.

The Gryffindor looked apologetically at the two, shifting his bag on his shoulders. "I can't, I've got detention all week with Sprout."

Both of them looked mildly confused, before Seamus finally piped up. "But… Harry… we haven't even had Herbology yet."

The seeker made a face, tossing his bag to them and pulling out a worn jumper. There was no way he was going to get his robes dirty again—he didn't have as many to spare as the pointy-faced Slytherin.

"I know. Take this back for me, will you? I've got to get going."

Dean nodded, letting out a sigh and looking toward Seamus suspiciously. "What's in the package."

The Irish boy smirked, unwrapping the lumpy package and revealing a football. "It's charmed—to fly!"

Dean smiled warily, before nodding. "Right then… let's play…"

x.x.x.x

"Shut-up, Malfoy." Harry said darkly, working on filing the disarray of paper before him.

"I can't help it," the other boy snickered, lounging lazily on the chair attached to his desk, completely ignoring the pile of folders before him. "Where did you get it anyway? I thought you would know not to shop anywhere Hagrid referred."

Flushing to match the plum coloured jumper covering his chest, the threads loose and torn in a number of places, Harry shoved a file into the cabinet. "I figured we'd be doing more hands-on work. I wasn't expecting Sprout to have us do archiving."

Draco let out another howl of laughter, dressed of course in his best robes and Harry only sent him a resentful look.

As filing didn't allow much to be thrown, the majority of their work—or lounging, in Draco's case—took place in silence. It was almost suspicious, and Sprout, feeling she could finally leave to the Greenhouse to do her nightly watering, stood up from her desk.

"I'll be right back. Don't think I won't hear you fighting if you start."

Neither noticed the Lotus spurs had been moved to a different greenhouse.

The silence that ensued after Sprout's departure was thick, and Draco finally groaned. "There's way too much of this, I hope she's not expecting me to finish—"

A sudden tapping noise caused him to stop short, staring suspiciously at Harry but realising he only looked as startled as the other. Reaching for his wand, Draco let out a sudden foreboding exhale, remembering Sprout's wrinkled palm taking hold of it hours ago.

Slipping off his chair, Harry held his finger to his lips, and moved toward the window where a looming figure seemed to be.

"It's probably just a … tree or something."

Draco looked at Harry disbelievingly. "If you hadn't noticed, Potter, all the trees are _inside_ the greenhouse."

Harry realised that was true, but shook off the statement anyhow. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, he pulled the window open, stumbling back in surprise as an owl flew toward him viciously, swooping over his head and gliding toward his desk.

Then, the huge brown animal dropped a small envelop from its clutches, before pecking Harry, annoyed, and leaving the greenhouse in peace once more.

"What in Merlin's name…" Draco began, pushing out his chair and walking over toward Harry. There was an unreadable expression on his face as he tried to peer at the scrawled name. "Does Potter have a secret admirer?"

Harry blushed, shoving the letter in pocket, regretting leaving his bag with Seamus, and glared at Draco. "I applied for some international Quidditch teams, actually. I'm sure they're just replying."

Draco smirked, finally picking up one of the files, but staying strangely silent. Harry glanced at him, in disappointment or relief at his silence, he wasn't sure.

x.x.x.x

Ron stumbled back into the dormitory soon after Harry, who had immediately thrown off his jumper. Now sitting in his four-poster, his eyes trained on a Quidditch book, he only glanced at his friend in greeting, before continuing his read.

"How was it?"

The redhead frowned, untying his shoes and tossing a burgundy, closed, inkwell on his bed. "We… actually studied." He said, looking unsure. "In fact, we studied with _colour coded notes_."

Harry grinned, placing his book on his nightstand and standing up. "She does have the highest average in all of Slytherin, and possibly takes as many classes as Hermione."

"I know, but…" Ron gave Harry an incredulous look. "We _actually_ studied."

Harry, feeling a bit bad for his friend getting stuck in such a situation, couldn't help but jab him a bit more. "Do you think she resembles anyone you know, Ron?"

The redhead raised a brow, pulling off his own jumper. "I don't really know, but for some reason she seemed strangely familiar."

Shaking his head, Harry quickly burned out the candles, enveloping the dorm in darkness.

x.x.x.x

Pulling on his robes the next morning, Harry had found the letter he received on the floor and frowned as he realised he had forgotten all about it. Picking it up, he shoved it in his robes, expecting it to be a reply from Quidditch teams just as he suspected, and figured Ron would want to hear about it as well.

When he reached the Common Room, Hermione was in an oddly good mood, sitting on one of the armchairs with her books sprawled in front of her. "What's up?" He said, raising a brow as he sat opposite to her on the floor, crossing his legs.

"Oh, nothing," she smiled, crossing a 't' in a manner that was much too enthusiastic, even for Hermione.

When Ron finally joined them, Hermione sent him an empathizing look. "Sorry again about your date, Ron." She said, and Harry thought he had an idea about what she was particularly happy about that morning.

Sending both his friends a _look_, he placed his letter out in front of him. "I think this is from the Harpies. Though, the seal is unidentifiable."

Ron immediately brightened, peering at excitedly, before frowning. "You haven't even opened it."

Harry shrugged, finding he wasn't as excited as he thought he would be. "I already know I won't be a Quidditch player after Hogwarts, I'm still clueless to why Lupin convinced me to send these out."

Hermione, finally becoming something akin to her normal self, sent Harry a soft look, gripping his arm gently before nodding toward the letter. "You don't know that, Harry. Lupin wouldn't have made you send them out if that were the case."

The seeker stared at the letter for a moment, before feeling a twinge of enthusiasm in his chest, followed by an assault of nerves. "I can't. Ron, you open it."

Ron stared at the letter with wide eyes, before shaking his head. "What? No! I can't open it; I'm bad luck you know."

"I don't want to be the first to read it!" Harry countered, looking back at the letter in a way that suggested if he had a long stick to poke it with, he would've.

"I'm not even that good at reading, Harry, what if I mess up the words—"

"Honestly!" Hermione said finally, snatching the letter off her Astronomy text and tearing it open in an almost anticlimactic way.

Harry and Ron sent each other looks, before both protested. "I was just about to do it you know—" "—It was my letter, I should've been the one to open it—"

But the look on Hermione's face suggested something was extremely wrong, and she glanced at Harry a big worriedly. "I don't think this is from the Harpies, Harry…" She trailed off, leaving Ron and Harry at a loss for words, before she began to read it out.

'Harry Potter,

Stay close to your friends during the Halloween Feast, lest something happens.'

Ron, expecting more, turned to Hermione with a frown, but she seemed to be concentrating on the small paragraph intently.

Harry, himself, seemed puzzled and decided to prompt her. "Hermione? Do you have any idea who sent this?"

The witch shook her head slowly, folding the letter back up before lighting it on fire. "I suspected Snape at first—it's unsigned so it's safe to send over even if it were to be intruded."

The ashes fell to the floor. "But I say we can't trust it. Snape could have easily told Dumbledore rather than yourself, and he could have taken care of the situation much better than you can."

Ron nodded slowly, before stating the obvious as he often did. "But it's a warning; surely they don't mean harm for Harry."

Harry seemed to catch onto Hermione, looking at Ron with an unreadable expression.

"Or maybe, it's a threat."

x.x.x.x


	2. Precautionary Measures

**AN: **The positive feed back was wonderful! I have the next few chapters planned out, actually, and am excited to begin writing. Hopefully I can keep up this pace of updating—I am very inspired at the moment, after all! Thanks for the reviews :) and hopefully this chapter is a fitting continuation.

**Chapter Two: **Precautionary Measures

x.x.x.x

Harry's fingers reached out for the golden ball, the sharp wings fluttering quickly, cutting into his knuckles. It was extremely easy to catch just before the sun completely set, as the array of colours in the sky reflected off the small snitch, revealing its location.

Finally hitting the ball with his palm, he closed his fingers around it tightly and felt triumphant for merely a second before releasing the object again, giving it a head-start, and then speeding after it once more.

The Quidditch pitch was booked by the Slytherins, so he had chosen to play his game of chase by the lake, the tail end of his broom having seeped into the water more than once. Just as it happened again, the snitch realising Harry was particularly fussy about his broom touching the water and continuously aiming for it, Harry caught on and snapped his fingers around the ball once again.

"Smart little thing, aren't you," he said fondly, before folding in the wings and flying over to the shore where his broom servicing kit lay.

Sitting cross-legged on the cold earth, he pulled out a few twigs that were out of place, before turning to the pitch to watch the Slytherin practice, squinting and only making out vague figures.

He was almost grateful. Malfoy booking the pitch meant Snape gave him a letter to excuse him from detention in order to take advantage of the "scarce" time they had on the field. As Sprout was a fair professor, she let Harry go for the night as well.

Wiping his forehead with filthy robes, he let out a long sigh, his thoughts moving back to the letter he had received nearly two days ago. The blunt warning, but subtle threat, continued to plague his thoughts everywhere he went, though he profusely disagreed with Hermione to go to Dumbledore.

The Headmaster had barely been at Hogwarts since the beginning of the semester, and such trivial notes that could have easily been sent by someone as sinister as Neville, would only cause him unnecessary stress.

When the dark finally consumed him, and curfew hit the castle, Harry stood up from his seat on the grassy lakeside and walked toward the castle. The Slytherins were just finishing their practice as well, figures disappearing from the sky and into the changing room.

x.x.x.x

The next day went without incident, and the only class to have a practical was Care of Magical Creatures.

Feeling ultimately bored, Harry trudged to his detention almost looking forward to it as something to keep him busy for the remainder of the day.

It was then he saw the greenhouse was locked and a very irate Slytherin was standing out in the brisk air, holding a warm looking grey jumper around him. "Finally decided to show up, did you?"

Harry raised a brow, before leaning against the door without sparing Draco a glance. "It's only five minutes after, Malfoy."

"Five minutes of being locked outside alone in the _cold_ is equivalent to an hour under normal circumstances, Potter." He glanced around for Sprout, as if hoping to be able to goad her into taking points from the Gryffindor.

Said Gryffindor shrugged, though also looked around. "Do you think she forgot?"

Snorting, Draco shook his head. As if fate were agreeing with him, Sprout's bustling form became visible over one of the grassy hills leading to the Forest. She was a bit disheveled, though looked thoroughly excited.

"I hope you dressed warmly, though tonight's activity should keep you comfortable enough." She said with a smile, before turning around and leading them back down the same path she had just arrived from.

"Wait! Wait! If _that's _where we're heading, don't expect me to follow!" Draco cried, pointing at the Forbidden Forest with obvious dislike.

Instead of answering, Sprout took a sharp turn that resulted in them ending up at the gamekeeper hut, and it was Harry's turn to brighten. Visiting Hagrid for detention was almost like no detention at all. Just as he began walking toward the steps, Sprout let out a small chuckle and shook her head.

"Mr. Potter, we'll be going around the back—" She led them around the fence into the large area behind the hut, where enormous pumpkins lay basking.

Draco look mortified. "I'm not going to be able to lift those. Especially not without my wand," he held it protectively, but Sprout just held out her hand expectantly for them once more.

Then, she handed them each shovels and long, sharp knives. Harry looked at them wonderingly, before sending the professor an inquisitive look. "Er…?"

"You'll be gutting them!" She grinned, walking over to the nearest and pulling over the stepstool. Climbing up, she pushed the top off the pumpkin and it fell with a loud _thud_ to the ground. Then, after a small sigh of what seemed to be regret that she could not join them, she stepped off the stool and wiped her hands on her apron.

"Gu—gutting?" Draco had dropped his shovel in surprise, the handle becoming twisted in the vines and weeds below. "I will not _gut_ anything."

Harry made a face and agreed, digging his own shovel into the ground and stepping back a bit. "Really, Professor, haven't you got anymore archiving you'd rather have us do."

Sprout raised a brow. "Neither of you finished the archiving, actually. In fact, Draco barely touched his. I believe I need something for you to do that I can actually make sure you are completing as I watch."

Sending Draco an accusing glance, Harry finally picked up his shovel resignedly and moved toward the ladder, his nose twitching at the smell. Using his shoulders to swing his shovel, he let it fall into the pumpkin guts with a sickening squelch, before using all his effort to pull out a slimy jumble of seeds.

"You look ridiculous." Draco pointed out bluntly, and Harry made sure to drop his seeds suspiciously close to the blonde.

"Alright, you two get started. I'll be watching from inside the hut." She looked a bit wary, not particularly enthusiastic to try out Hagrid's new fudge recipe, but smiling all the same.

x.x.x.x

The pumpkin was only one-third of the way gutted nearly two hours later. The lack of progress was credited to the blonde Slytherin, who stared at their job more than completed it. "There's still four more to go, Malfoy. Get a move on, or we'll be stuck here until Christmas."

"They need them before the feast, next week." Draco said stubbornly, stirring his shovel into the slime nonchalantly. "If we can stall, they'll have to do it themselves."

Rolling his eyes, Harry flung another heap of guts onto the ground, Fang barking in a pained way, which made the Gryffindor look over his shoulder apologetically at the sticky boarhound.

"How considerate of you, Malfoy," he said finally, swinging one of the rubber boot-clad feet he had, thanks to Sprout, into the pumpkin. Draco stared at him in repulsion.

"I can't believe you just did that."

Harry sent him a look, "It's not so bad actually. It's a lot easier than reaching over the edge, especially since this thing is huge." He flung his other foot into the pumpkin, standing inside it, feeling it shouldn't have been possible to stand inside a pumpkin and still have plenty room enough for Draco to join him.

"They never get this big. That half-breed has probably got all sorts of charms on them." But, Harry couldn't fire back any insults as Draco had finally stepped into the pumpkin beside him, his own rubber boots making a squeaky noise before sinking into the mush.

"Eugh…"

Harry only smirked, continuing gut pumpkin, finally getting Draco to as well.

"I can't have you beating me in even this," the Slytherin said as an excuse, gutting with a vengeance.

x.x.x.x

Panting, Draco leaned against the inside wall of the pumpkin, using the back of his gloved hand to wipe sweat from his forehead and leaving a sticky, orange mess smeared across his face.

Harry laughed, trying to finish up what was left of the pumpkin as Draco took a rest that, admittedly, he deserved. It came to dawn on him, however, that Sprout couldn't possibly see them now, and Harry dropped his shovel in the nearly-clean pumpkin.

"What are you doing, Potter. I think it's time you pulled your weight around here." The blonde said smugly, his chest rising and falling in a harsh manner.

The Gryffindor smirked wickedly, dragging his fingers across the floor of the pumpkin, collecting a tangle of orange paste in his hands. Then he turned to Draco with an evil glint in his eye. "Just because you finally decided to do something during our detentions doesn't mean you can push me around, Malfoy."

"Excuse me—" The blonde started indignantly, only to have the orange gunk hit him square in the face, adding to the smear on his forehead and dripping down his fine, silvery hair.

There was a long draught of silence, and Harry became less confident, shifting his feet. "Ehm… Malfoy?"

The blonde finally wiped the remains of pumpkin off his face, a maleficent look on his face. "You bloody sod." He finally said, before yelling something akin to a war-cry and flinging himself onto the other boy, making him fall into the slimy substance. Then, to make it as gruesome as possible, he gathered a heap in his palms and smudged it all over the laughing face.

"Ow, ow, stop it!"

Draco narrowed his eyes, finally lifting himself off, though still sitting slightly on the Gryffindor with heaving breath. Harry smirked at him from below, before sliding out from his grip and picking up his shovel.

"Still four more to go, Malfoy."

x.x.x.x

They only managed to finish one more, and were sent back to their dorms by a very disgruntled Herbology professor.

Harry walked down the corridor in the opposite direction of Draco's staircase to the dungeons, his hair filled with the gunk of the pumpkins and his glasses smudged making it difficult for him to see properly.

Just as he took them off to clean, he felt he saw a blur move beside him and had the distinct feeling that someone was watching him. His lips grew dry as he placed his glasses back on his nose, turning to look at the stone walls where nothing seemed to be creeping in the shadows.

Hermione's worry seemed to be rubbing off on him, infecting him with the same paranoia. Shaking his head at himself, he moved up the staircase to reach the Gryffindor Common Room, the prickle on his neck still prominent.

x.x.x.x

"Detention didn't go over so well?" Ron said apologetically, pulling a pumpkin seed off Harry's robe.

Harry shrugged, tossing it to the floor and making a disgusted face at Ron as he took a slight nibble of the raw seed. "I still haven't received any letters from Quidditch teams." He said resignedly.

The redhead dropped the seed in the rubbish bin, pulling his covers to his chin. "They'll come, I'm sure. It's not a while before the end of the year, and that's when they do the majority of their scouting."

Harry nodded slightly, pulling off his socks and tucking into bed as well.

"Hey, Harry…"

"What?"

"Are you nervous? About the Halloween feast, I mean."

Harry thought for a minute, before turning on his side. "Well, I get the feeling something's following me. But, it could easily just be ghouls roaming around the castle… right?"

Ron made a sound that obviously disagreed, but nodded anyway. "Yeah."

x.x.x.x

"Harry, I need a word with you."

Hermione came stalking into the Great Hall, and Harry realised only then that it had been a while since he'd last talked with her. "Hermione! Where have you been?"

The girl smiled slightly at him, before shaking her head and gesturing for him to follow. Ron stood up as well, following them both out of the Hall into the Corridor.

"What is it? Did you find out who sent the letter?" Harry said, a bit too enthusiastically for someone who claimed he thought it was a trivial matter.

"No." Hermione said regrettably, trudging up the staircase and looking around her for a brief second, before stepping forward again. Harry felt the familiar eyes on him from last night, and paused in his walking.

"What's wrong, then?" He said curiously, Ron stepping beside him and rubbing his knee which had hit the railing on his chase to catch up.

"I—I think we should start the DA up again." She said finally, worrying her bottom lip.

Harry automatically took on a blank expression, feeling sick whenever he heard of the club. They had thought they were being brave, but they ended up causing trouble for everyone. "No."

"Please, Harry, consider it. Threats going around the school—"

"It's not a serious threat!" Harry cried in frustration, feeling his anger skyrocket.

Ron placed a hand on Harry's shoulder calmly, "Harry, she's right. If that letter has any truth to it at all, then Hogwarts is going to need to protect itself." The unspoken words of an inevitable war didn't need to be said.

Looking away, peering down the railing, Harry clenched his fist. "I don't want to take care of it."

Hermione nodded gently, "I figured. That's why I think we should make it a club of alliance. For those who want to join, we'll pick a representative of each house—it's less corrupt that way, and Slytherins might even join."

"You want to teach the Slytherins how to use vicious spells, Hermione?" Ron asked doubtfully. "I'm not sure that's a good idea—"

Harry cut in, looking at Hermione. "If we can pull any of the Slytherins to our side and save them for Voldemort, I want to do it." There was an uncomfortable pause, before Harry spoke up once more. "We should include a teacher, as well… My training with Lupin doesn't start again until the summer; I think practice before then would be a good idea."

The witch nodded hesitantly, taking the few last steps of the staircase and setting out her plans on the stone floor, taking a seat. Ron and Harry followed, sitting on either side.

"The question is, what professor?"

Harry knew who she had in mind and looked at her notebooks stubbornly. "If he agrees, I suppose he's our best bet."

Ron seemed to clue in and made a face. "Snape?!"

x.x.x.x

"No."

Snape stared at Draco with a disappointed gaze, before tenting his fingers. "With an unavoidable war approaching us, I think such an idea could come in handy for both you and the rest of Slytherin."

"No. I will not be a part of Potter's superiority complex."

"Draco, I handpicked you myself to represent Slytherin. If you join them, many others who are too fearful or skeptical will, as well. You have no idea the influence you carry—"

Looking smug, Draco nodded. "I do. I am a Malfoy after all."

With a less than pleased expression, Snape nodded. "You are. It's not an alliance with the _light_ side, Draco; it's an alliance with each other."

"I will not be cooperative."

"You'll get to make decisions," Snape said, his eyes narrowing. "And, for… future endeavors… this connection could aid you _greatly_. Unless, your ambitions have changed?"

The young Slytherin stared at the table stubbornly, before the prospect of future ties caused him to finally relent.

"Sign up Parkinson, as well. I won't go alone to the first 'meeting'."

Snape's lip curved in a devilish smile, before he placed his quill between his fingers. "Very well, Mr. Malfoy. Very well."

x.x.x.x


	3. Maturity

**AN: **Ahhh, another installment! This is where the plot is actually starting to begin! I know Draco and Harry's relationship is a little slow moving, and unfortunately it will stay that way for a while, but I have so many plants for it! –excited–

Hope you enjoy this :)

**Chapter Three: **Maturity

x.x.x.x

Harry yawned, his knees pulled up to his chest and an idle quill between his fingers. His eyes were mostly drawn to the window, where a light snowfall was dusting the castle grounds. Hermione's plans for the alliance, a name that signified unity, but not firm loyalty such as the previous "Dumbledore's Army" were sprawled across the floor in front of him, flickering as Hermione walked past him every few minutes.

"I think the dueling stage would be best here," she said to herself, but Ron looked cross.

"That's where I decided the Boggart would go. You said to put it anywhere, and I chose _there_."

"Ron, be logical. The dueling table is very long. Sidelong the wall would be the only place it would fit comfortably… Unless you want Harry and Malfoy to be close enough to jab each other in the eyes with their wands, rather than actually use them for magical purposes."

Harry glanced up at that with a frown, finally realising the quill was in his hand and continuing to plan out the first meeting.

"Eugh! Did you really have to use _him_ as an example?"

"I knew it was the only thing you'd find repulsive enough to move the cupboard." Hermione said smugly as the redhead levitated the Boggart away with a disgruntled look on his face.

"I hope to Merlin he doesn't come. I can just imagine him using every opportunity he gets to try and hex us." Ron continued, shoving the cupboard against the wall near an exuberant fireplace.

Harry smirked, before shrugging. "He's more likely to throw putrid smelling, rotting garden weeds at you."

Ron decided he didn't want to know, as Harry continued to dangle his quill between his fingers uselessly.

x.x.x.x

The halls were empty as Harry left the Great Hall, dinner not having ended just yet. He was determined to make his last Herbology detention on time, not wanting to give Sprout any excuse prolonging his torture any more than had already been done.

Though there was that distinct stare boring into him from a direction he couldn't place, he continued to walk nonchalantly. The talk of threats and The Alliance was beginning to entrap him into a false sense of insecurity. And, as it was, the feast wasn't until Monday anyhow.

Draco was already there, punctual as always, when Harry entered the greenhouse. It was chilly, the weather finally taking its toll on him, and the Gryffindor groaned, hovering on the edge of a desk.

"Maybe you should wear that jumper again—other than the stray holes, it looks _very _warm. I encourage it, really."

The sneer on Draco's face was so familiar that Harry took a moment to register it was even there in the first place. "I couldn't do that, Malfoy. I wouldn't want to steal your thunder when you try so hard to match your shirt and socks every morning."

The blonde rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest but staying silent. It seemed the weather was getting to the both of them, and Sprout's newly found habit of being late was not helping their moods at all.

Finally, the doors opened and Sprout entered, looking short of breath. Her hair, frazzled as always, jumped out from underneath her latest accessory—a plum, worn witch's hat that caused Draco to send a number of smirking expressions in Harry's direction—as she closed the heavy doors behind her. The whistle of wind stopped, though the gloom surrounding the castle grounds was still quite evident inside.

Smiling brightly, Sprout pulled off her hat and set it on a hook near her desk while regarding the two boys cheerfully. "This will hopefully be the last time I'm seeing you here outside of class for at least the remainder of term," she said with a small wink, before nodding toward the old door leading to the grass shrubberies.

"The poor things don't grow very well when winter's approaching, so we have to trim them." Handing them each heavy, metal trimming tools, she nodded at the expansive heads of green, some thorny with brambles while others were simple bushes.

Draco immediately set foot in front of the smallest one, small wilting flowers dotting around it. "Let's get this done as soon as possible, Potter."

Sprout, who usually watched over them for at least a while, had suddenly left with only a small "Behave now, you two!" signaling her departure. She seemed to be in an awful rush lately, though Harry was grateful. It was easier to let out the stress of detention toward Draco rather than keep it inside and hex him later.

The clicking of their tools rang out in their silence, before Draco let out a startled cry, the sound of his choppers clattering on the ground echoing in the greenhouse. Harry immediately looked up, hero instincts turning on. "Malfoy?"

Looking irritable, Draco picked his tool up again and glanced at Harry with a glare. "I cut myself, and I don't even have my wand to heal it." He snapped the twig off his bush with more force than needed.

Harry sent him a look, before rolling his eyes. "I've scraped and cut myself on a number of thorns, Malfoy. You're hogging the placid plants, I'll have you know."

There was an odd silence, before Harry looked over to his companion and noticed him wincing. "Are you sure that you're okay?"

Draco made a face, holding out his finger into whatever light the candles flickered onto their figures. The gash was bleeding profusely, but he nodded. "Not like you can do anything about it anyway, Scarhead—of course, not unless you've learned some more astonishing tricks over the holidays."

Rolling his eyes, and deciding never to inquire about the blonde's injuries again (considering most of them were caused by Harry in the first place) Harry went back to his task at hand, the silence swallowing them once more.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of endless clicking and snapping, Draco settled on a bush next to Harry, a calculating look on his face.

"Potter, about this… Alliance."

The Gryffindor let out a long sigh, dropping his clippers to the ground and stretching out his legs. "Don't tell me Snape chose you as the Slytherin representative."

Draco snorted, letting one hand hold his chin as the other lazily cut the bush without effort. "Don't tell me you weren't expecting that."

Harry had to agree there. "It's just to train and learn." A pause engulfed them, before the Gryffindor asked his question, more hesitantly than he had meant to. "Do you think you'll come?"

Draco shrugged easily, sprawled in a heap on the floor while leaning halfheartedly on his shrubbery. "To learn from an incompetent Gryffindor like yourself? No. But I'm sure Snape has a thing or two I'd like to discover."

Harry felt a small smile tug at his lips as the wind whistled through the greenhouse suddenly.

x.x.x.x

Sprout threw open the door not fifteen minutes later, inspecting the shrubs with a half-smile, not ever expecting them to fully finish a job. Though, she was almost glad they had not traveled through the entire greenhouse as she had instructed—at least some shrubs were saved from the wonky structure that the trimmed bushes had been given.

"I'm suspecting you both behaved, as no bruises are visible." She stated, using her wand to turn on an irrigation spell as Draco stood up enthusiastically, ready to leave the greenhouse as soon as possible.

As the blonde rushed from the greenhouse, Sprout glanced at his retreating back a little surprised. "Have a nice Friday evening, Mr. Malfoy," she called, before raising a brow in Harry's direction.

Harry shrugged, clueless, before following Sprout out the door. It was in between the woman's babbling about her latest winter bulbs that he remembered he'd forgotten his bag in the greenhouse and sheepishly left the Herbology professor to her own ramblings.

The shrubs looked incredibly mutated, Harry noticed, and he grimaced as he walked passed the one he had last been working on, slinging his book bag through his arm before shoving it onto his shoulder. Once the weight was comfortably settled on him, he walked back toward the doors a bit awkwardly, sidestepping the leaves and branches scattered on the floor.

It was then a flash caught his eye, and he turned his head sharply, reaching instinctively for his wand and holding it in his grasp. However, as his obsessed paranoia had led him to believe that one of the wilting flowers on Draco's shrub was a deadly knife; he could only laugh at himself wearily.

On further inspection, he noticed that there actually was a metallic flash and leaned in closer, using a stray twig to push away the petals and blooms from whatever it was that was blinding him.

After a few jabs, he finally managed to pull out a strange pendant, the wide silver wings of a crane dotted with emeralds. The only vile thing about it was the small crust of blood outlining the top and crystal edge.

Raising a brow, he shoved it in his pocket with the intent of returning it. Though, as soon as he met Ron and Hermione in the Entrance Hall, most thoughts of the shiny pendant were forgotten.

x.x.x.x

Ron stared haughtily at Snape as the Potions Master glided through their meeting room, his eyes landing on the trinkets with either great detest or the slightest glimmer of approval.

"The room will have to do," he said finally, sending the three students a glare. Without the room of requirement, most supplies were remnants of old Defense Against the Dark Arts materials, and Harry thought it deserved more credit than given.

Immediately sending Snape an icy stare, he waited for the Professor's next comments.

"Finch-Fletchley for Hufflepuff and Turpin for Ravenclaw?" The greasy male wrote something on a piece of parchment, addressing them without looking up. "Potter for Gryffindor, obviously—"

Harry gritted his teeth as the man sent him a mocking glance.

"And Malfoy for Slytherin—"

Ron immediately spluttered, standing up from his chair and looking furiously at Snape. "Now hold on, no one said anything about that ferret becoming a representative—"

"Ten points from Gryffindor. Surely you know better than to insult another student directly to another teacher. Of course I made the most beneficial decision, Weasley, have Granger explain it to you."

The redhead flushed immediately, though at Hermione's instruction, settled back in his seat, bristling.

Feeling his jaw clench, Harry regarded Snape as calmly as he could. Before anything could be said between the two, a sound knock came from the direction of the door. Hermione abruptly stood up, lifting up the intense locking spells and slipping the door open. Lisa Turpin glanced at Hermione worriedly, before her eyes traveled to Ron and Harry, finally finishing their journey on Snape a little surprised.

"I'm here for the… meeting?" She trailed off, looking awkward between the doorframe, an obvious intruder on the quartet's previous conversation.

"Yes, of course. Come in, sorry about the locks." Hermione said a bit worriedly, wringing her hands once in a while as her gaze trailed back and forth between the Potions Master and Harry.

Lisa shook her head, smiling at Hermione though managing to look a bit egotistical as she did. "They were strong spells, I'm really impressed, Granger." Then, leaning close, she glanced at the two boys. "I still say the Sorting Hat is insane for not sorting you into Ravenclaw."

Then, with a gentler, yet still superior smile, she took a seat that was intended for her around the table.

The next to arrive was Draco, his tie straightened impossibly neat, and his eyes boring into Harry as he entered. He and Snape seemed to wander over to a corner for a private conversation where the blonde was obviously very riled up about something, glaring severely at the other man.

Once Justin finally walked through the doors, apologizing for his delay as he had gotten lost trying to find the room, the meeting began.

"We want you to collect as many students from your house to join our club…" Hermione trailed off, opening a book to record any names. "The more we have, the better—"

Harry, still naïve in thinking everyone who joined would someday commit their lives to the light side, nodded as she spoke. The benefits she listed seemed endless, and the small group of students glanced at one another with small nods or other indications of what they were thinking.

Finally, after a longwinded talk about the types of lessons they'd be focusing on, the speech ended and Hermione waited nervously for comments.

Surprisingly, Malfoy was the first one to speak up with a lazy drawl, playing casually with a silver ring on his thumb. "I've slipped in word about it to a few of the other seventh years, though I can tell they are going to need a lot more persuasion—" His gaze traveled to Snape, though the older man blatantly ignored the look.

Hermione nodded, handing each of them the scheduled meetings for that week. "I never expected it to be easy. I'm surprised you joined, actually, Malfoy. It's very mature of you to put aside your differences for the greater cause." She nodded to herself, catching the nauseated look on Ron's face and glaring at him slightly.

The Slytherin looked just as pleased as the redhead, and he drummed his fingers lazily on the table. "I'm not doing this for anyone but myself, and I do not support that old nutter, Dumbledore. Surely you know that anything I, or any of my housemates, learn here will come to aid us in the war no matter what side we are on."

The bluntness of the statement, though everyone had guessed where most of Slytherins' loyalties had lain, caused the room to spiral into a disturbing silence. Finally, Snape astounded them all by breaking it.

"Five points from Slytherin. Mr. Malfoy, I cannot tolerate you insulting the Headmaster like that."

Draco sent him a blank look, before gathering the paper in his hands. "Pansy agreed, but I hadn't realised this was a private meeting—" Another scathing look was sent toward Snape as Draco continued, "She won't be loyal at all to the club, she's mostly just an accessory."

Lisa made a miffed sound, sending Draco a repulsed look. Snape looked displeased and highly irritated at his prized Slytherin's behaviour, but Harry was just watching the blonde curiously.

The Hufflepuff representative, feeling uncomfortable between the others, finally put in his own words. "I'm sure Hufflepuff will bring you many supporters, Harry!" He said loyally, a bright smile on his face, though looking unsure of himself.

Ron and Hermione shared a look as Harry sent Justin a sheepish stare, catching Draco's angry gaze from the corner of his eye. "Actually, they won't be supporters—they'll be members. This isn't the DA, this club is run by all four of our houses… Ehm…"

The Slytherin was already out the door, having felt it was his cue for a dramatic leave.

Justin gazed at them abashedly, before sitting back down and deflating from his prior, bold persona.

"Oh. Right."

x.x.x.x

"I thought it was endearing," Hermione said, trying to placate the Gryffindor seeker as they walked back to their common room.

"Is that what everyone will think? That this is _my_ club? Malfoy has done more than I have at this point—already starting to convince the Slytherins to join." Harry bristled, taking the stairs two at a time.

"They look up to you, Harry. You can't deny that you'll be most valuable with your skills."

The Gryffindor stopped abruptly, turning around to stare at his two companions accusingly. "I thought you said there wouldn't be any weight in my favour!"

"You can't help their mindset, Harry. Really, start being mature about this—you'll have sway, it's inevitable, but you'll also have partners. Lisa Turpin has a better shield than you, I happen to know. Draco's rebound attacks are quicker than yours, and Justin is innovative with his spell choices. You have a lot to learn as well, they'll eventually put aside their awe of you being Harry Potter and take the club as more of a team effort, you just have to _give it time_."

Harry looked at Hermione, a bit surprised, and she blushed. "What?"

"You called him Draco." Harry said, a bit inquisitively.

Ron raised a brow. "You're surprised about the wrong thing, Harry. Though, I suppose long rants from Hermione aren't really surprising anymore."

x.x.x.x

"Potter? You've made an alliance with _Potter_?" Theodore stared at Draco incredulously.

The Slytherin felt the faintest blush dust his cheeks, but immediately shook his head. "I've made an alliance with Hogwarts. Don't tell me you haven't the need for any practice, Knott, if you haven't perfected Quidditch yet, there is no way in _hell_ you've perfected your war skills."

Theodore scowled, their conversation catching the attention of others in the Common Room.

"You're as good as pledging your loyalty to Dumbledore, Malfoy." Theodore said unreasonably, causing those who seemed interested in the Alliance to instantly turn away, not interested in changing their loyalties any time soon.

"Oh really? Is that why Dumbledore isn't the one in charge while _Snape_ is?" The blonde challenged, stepping closer and looking absolutely furious with the other undermining his authority.

Graham Pritchard looked over to the pair with a raised brow. Finally, he piped up, quite daring for being younger than the both of them. "Snape's in charge, is he? Will he teach us that wicked mind-blocking trick?"

Knott sneered at the younger Slytherin. "You have to practice your subtle eavesdropping skills, Graham." He barked rudely, casting the young boy away.

Pritchard smirked, obviously not as influenced by the sandy-haired Slytherin as he was Draco. "Actually, you have to learn a thing or two about how to have a private conversation." He said cheekily, settling his eyes back on Draco expectantly.

The blonde gave him a look before nodding. "With the number of spies around, Occlumency is completely necessary for war."

Two or three other Slytherins looked up from their textbooks, contemplating looks on their faces as Graham soon lost interested, returning to his latest trinket—a morbid looking skull that depicted gruesome images in the fog lingering between empty eye sockets.

"Knott—you need this," Draco said bluntly, quieter and with more force while catching the others arm in his grip. "You need it more than any of us. You have to be strong, or _he'll_ hurt you for every weakness you display."

Theodore pulled his arm away, sending Draco a scornful look. Then he left the Common Room with only one rude gesture sent Pritchard's way.

x.x.x.x


	4. Guarding Treasure

Monday approached all too quickly for Harry, and though he shook off Hermione's worried glances and the pale tone to Ron's cheeks, he couldn't help feel apprehensive himself. The weather, as usual, was stormy and foreboding throughout the day, creating a sense of restlessness throughout the castle. The Gryffindor could hardly sit through the charms lesson, and Hermione was distracted enough to not even remark at how poorly Ron had done on their latest assignment.

The Alliance hadn't had any sort of contact with one another since the first meeting, and Harry had insisted that they keep the warning a secret between the three of them.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry's head snapped up at once as he was woken from his reverie. "Sorry, Professor." He said automatically, wondering when exactly he had left Charms and moved to Transfiguration.

With a slight purse of her lips, McGonagall moved on, tapping Ron's desk rather loudly.

The day continued to progress, flashing them by. It wasn't until Harry exited his last class when a prickle of uneasiness ran over his neck.

"Hello?" He said loudly, in the middle of the mostly deserted classroom. Ron raised a brow, nudging him slightly.

"You OK, Harry?" he asked worriedly, obviously distraught about the next few hours leading to the feast.

Harry frowned, before nodding. It wouldn't go over well if he worried the redhead further about lingering, stalking, presences in the corridors.

x.x.x.x

Dumbledore's speech rang throughout the Great Hall clearly, the twinkle in his eyes prominent as he directed the students to the meal in front of them. There had been nothing extremely out of the ordinary, and Harry reached over the table for the pudding rather easily. It was obvious he had calmed down, deciding on the note being a prank.

"I told you we shouldn't have alerted Dumbledore," Harry said with a smile at Hermione, while gathering a spoon.

Hermione chewed her lip, looking worried still, though Ron nodded. "He's right 'Mione. Was probably a prank." He added while chewing on a drumstick.

Though she looked unconvinced, Hermione nodded. "You're right," she said with a hesitant chuckle. "I suppose with this blown over, we can plan the first official meeting for The Alliance."

Harry nodded, though made no actual effort to plan anything. Hermione, however, leaned in and pulled out a small notebook from her robes.

"I've made a list of those likely to join," she said in a whisper, pointing to the Gryffindor section. "It's ordered by house, firstly, then year."

There was a large splash of red ink on the paper where Hermione had written down the Gryffindor names. They outnumbered the rest, and Harry frowned when he realised that Slytherin had two names.

"Malfoy will be able to gather more than two people, Hermione," Harry said confidently, Ron immediately making a face at the topic of Slytherins.

"Of course he will, but we don't know exactly _who_ he's going to bring," Hermione said with a wave of her hand, while turning to the Ravenclaw section. "Terry Boot's already signed up, according to Lisa."

"I don't like that guy," Ron said at once, perhaps because of the slight, dazed edge, Hermione's voice took as she said his name.

Harry rolled his eyes, noticing the Hufflepuff list was also growing. "Right, this should be enough for a first meeting. How will we get word out?"

"It should be perfectly easy," Hermione said, nodding. "It's a very legal club, so we can post notices quite possibly everywhere. I've actually already posted one in the girl's dormitory."

"With Snape caring for the club, we'll definitely get a bit of sway with the Slytherins—" Harry began, leaning over the parchment, when Hermione suddenly cut him off.

"Harry, what is that?"

The brunet pushed his glasses up his nose, as though he missed seeing something, before swiveling his head toward the doors, then each table in turn. "What?"

"In your robe pocket," she added, pointing her quill at the front pocket of his robes where there was a gleam.

Harry frowned, reaching within the folds of the fabric to pull out a sparkling pendent. He suddenly let out a soft sound of recognition, before opening his mouth to respond.

Before he could even utter the first syllable, a low snarl sounded throughout the Great Hall, followed by the unmistakable rattle of chains. Harry's eyes widened as he grabbed hold of his own wand by force of habit.

The loud chatter that had been sounding throughout the Hall came to a sudden stop as everyone held their breath waiting for another snarl to reach their ears. When it didn't come, students began to send each other looks as a low buzz of whispers sprouted at each table.

"What…" Ron said, his voice low and with a wide-eyed expression. "Was that?"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but instead of the usual clear voice, there was another snarl, this time louder and possibly even more vicious.

Then finally, as everyone held their breath in anticipation, the Great Hall doors barged open violently as the sleek head of a gigantic eagle swooped down toward them, enormous wings flapping and sending waves of wind to spiral toward the tables.

Everyone began to shriek at once, the frequency increasing when the eagle walked entirely through the door, showing off its hind legs which looked like a lion's. A slender tail swayed around the creature as another keening cry left its beak.

The three Gryffindors didn't hesitate to join the rest of the crooked jumble of students all trying to exit the Hall, their screams loud enough to overtake Snape's snarling voice as he tried to calm them down.

"What on _Earth_ is a Griffin doing here?" Hermione cried, crawling underneath one of the tables with Ron following, suffering a violent kick to the shoulder by the shrieking first-year behind him.

"Griffin?" Ron gulped, his wand clutched tightly between his fingers. "What are _those_?"

Hermione rounded on him, narrowing her eyes. "If you paid attention in Care of Magical—"

"I _do_ pay attention, Hermione," Ron retorted, scowling and crawling faster as though trying to lose her.

The girl rolled her eyes visibly, before continuing. "They're magical creatures that are rarely violent," she said a bit wonderingly. "Even humans can't control them to be vicious; I wonder how on earth Harry's pen-pal is managing to dominate it."

Ron, not having been paying avid attention, too busy crying out and casting wayward spells on the wing that had crashed down the middle of the table, strong enough to split the thing in two, shrugged before asking:

"Harry, what was that one spell… with the water?"

Hermione held her hands over her head, slivers of wood falling atop them and causing several splinters. The lack of response made her lift her head however, squinting through the dust and noticing only Ron's panicking form as the wing brushed past his nose, nearly hitting him squarely.

"Harry?" Hermione tried again, before her eyes widened. "Ron, the Griffin is a trap for Harry! How could you lose him!"

Ron, oblivious, turned around and ducked as a talon scraped across the broken piece of wood. "_What?_" He cried, scrambling from under the table after Hermione. "I didn't lose him! How was I supposed to know he'd disappear," the redhead mumbled, a bit worriedly.

Hermione ducked, avoiding another wing as dust and wood flew passed her eyes, obscuring her vision. "Oh, this is silly!" She said with a glare, pulling out her wand. Of course, being no match for such a gigantic beast, she wasn't likely to make a difference—

"_Impedimenta!_"

Although the majority of the Griffin's body was moving, the tip of the wing slowed down enough for Hermione and Ron to escape into the open. It wasn't until the Griffin's beak was in their line of vision did Hermione let out a gasp.

Harry's robes were bloodied, his glasses crooked on his nose and a lens consequently missing. The Griffin seemed intent to attack him, restrained by chains as Harry tried his hardest to stay out of reach. Though, the hold on the Griffin weakened with each of its pulls, and he was making his way to Harry steadily, beak snapping.

"_Harry_!" Ron and Hermione cried in unison, immediately standing up and running to their friend's aid.

Harry's own wand was gripped in his hands as Ron aimed a spell at the beak.

"_Incarcerous_!"

Ropes wrapped around the sharp beak at once, the Griffin unable to snap and threaten any longer. Snarling through its nostrils, it rounded on Ron menacingly, though seemingly found no interest as it turned back to Harry, eyes gleaming.

They seemed to be reflecting something, and Harry licked his lips ready to fire another spell.

"Harry… wait! _Wait!_" Hermione cried suddenly.

"Hermione, this isn't anytime to be sprouting any of the S.P.E.W nonsense," Ron said exasperatedly, soothing a cut on his eyebrow where shards of a plate had cut him.

"No, it's not that. Harry, I've just remembered something… Have you got that pendent with you?" The brunette called over the shrieks. Most students were still running around, causing chaos and ignoring the others completely.

The professor's, occupied with the safety of their students rather than the furnishing of the Great Hall were also hurriedly gathering them, looks of shock clearly shown in their eyes.

"Pendent?" Harry said finally, heaving breath into his tired lungs as he avoided another swipe of the Griffin's talons. "Yeah, it's still here." He pulled it out and showed it to her, and Hermione winced.

"No, no, Harry—Put it back, hide it from sight—"

The Griffin had seen the pendent however, and the large amber eyes suddenly sparkled red, the beak snapping open and breaking through Ron's ropes. Finally, it leered forward, shrieking in a furious way as though Harry was the very bane of its existence.

Hermione, climbing atop a table as quickly as she could, tossed Ron her book-bag and pulled out her own wand, crying at the top of her lungs:

"_Accio Pendent!_"

The yell was loud enough to attract the nearby students' attention, and some of Gryffindors, realising their housemates were cornered, ran to Harry's aid, also firing their own spells. Though all spells seemed useless physically, the onslaught of sparks and spells seemingly confused the Griffin, and it whimpered loudly, stomping a leg as it swished its tail threateningly.

The slender fur swiped across Parvati Patil's cheek, leaving a violent red mark. Ron winced, as she yelped suddenly, before Snape's voice shook through the crowed once more.

"Get _away_ from that beast, Finnigan! What on earth are you doing on that table, Granger! _Weasley, what in Slytherin's names are your ropes doing tied to my ankles?_"

Through all the commotion, Hermione managed to grasp the pendent easily and unnoticed. In fact, the only one who detected it was Draco Malfoy, who frowned immediately, burrowing out from underneath the Slytherin table where he and his housemates had chosen to hide.

Pansy followed him, as usual, before placing a hand on his arm. "Draco? What's wrong?"

The Slytherin arched a slender brow, the shrieks and yells chorusing around them. "That pendent…"

x.x.x.x

Harry narrowed his eyes, staring accusingly at Hermione who was smirking cheekily at him. "I actually rather like it in here," she said, referring to the Hospital Wing. "It's a great place for quiet reading—"

Ron interrupted, looking just as furious. "What were you _thinking_? And better yet, how did you know the Griffin would go after you once you got hold of the pendent?"

Hermione shoved herself into a sitting position using leverage from her bandaged arm and suddenly looked very serious. "I remembered something as Harry was fighting the Griffin," she said with a calm voice. "They guard treasure. In fact, they're overly peaceful when their treasure is undisturbed and are rarely violent."

A nagging feeling crawled up Harry's toes as Hermione continued.

"It was when I remembered this, combined with the knowledge of the pendent that it occurred to me—you were obviously meant to find that pendent before the feast and the Griffin was meant to attack you. It became evident that the pendent was the Griffin's treasure, which was why it was attacking you, and only you." Hermione raised a brow. "I no one could control a Griffin to such an insane point," she said with a slow nod, feeling relieved.

Ron's red face loomed over hers once more as he scowled. "So you made yourself the target, Hermione?" He said angrily, his blue eyes fiery.

Hermione nodded nonchalantly, before smiling a little. "I'm really fine, Ron. There's no need to worry—"

The door opened suddenly, and the trio turned their heads to glance at Severus Snape who was looking particularly angry. Dumbledore followed them, his eyes twinkling unnaturally as he smiled at Hermione in a kind way.

"How are you, Miss. Granger?"

"Perhaps you should as her that after you've sent her to a mental institution, Albus." Snape snapped, glaring at Hermione.

Dumbledore chuckled noncommittally, with a small nod. He stroked his beard in an abstract way, before sitting on the edge of the bed next to them. "Her intelligence is only beaten by her bravery."

Blushing and desperately wanting to change the subject, Hermione immediately let out the description she had given to Ron and Harry, though much more detailed, to the two Professors. Snape's eyes were still narrowed once she had finished, but Dumbledore was nodding gravely.

"I had figured as much," he said with a sigh. "Remus said he noticed something strange that day—"

"Lupin?" Harry said, puzzled.

Hermione suddenly looked extremely nervous, wringing her gauzed hands while a guilty flush adorned her cheeks.

The door chose that moment to open, a ragged Remus Lupin entering the room with an uneasy smile. "Afternoon."

Harry narrowed his eyes, suddenly not feeling to keen on seeing his old mentor. "Hermione…" He said warningly, but the girl avoided his gaze.

Dumbledore nodded. "Ah, that's right. Mr. Potter, Miss. Granger here was quite troubled over something when she came to my office half a week ago."

Ron frowned, slowly cluing in as Harry's jaw clenched.

"She had explained to me that you received a certain letter, from an anonymous sender—and rightfully so—asking me to assign someone to watch over you until the Feast. Of course, the most suitable option was Remus Lupin," Dumbledore said, moving to Hermione's bedside and gathering a stray trinket in his hands.

Harry let out a soft "oh" as he realised the presence he felt throughout the week in the corridors was none other than Lupin following him. The sandy-haired man sent him a thin smile, nodding in confirmation.

"I had mentioned it to Severus right away," Dumbledore continued, as Hermione pretended she wasn't listening and played with the hem of her night dress. "It was obvious that if anyone had inside information on Harry's well-being, he would be the apparent candidate. When he assured me that it wasn't he who was sending you the anonymous letters, we decided that security measures needed to be heightened. It was then that Hermione Granger asked Severus to take care of this _Alliance_."

Feeling overwhelmed, Harry sat on the bed a bit dejectedly. "You had this already planned?" He said to Hermione.

Lupin sent Harry a small smile, before shaking his head. "She didn't want you to know because she knew you'd be worried about troubling us. But really, Harry, concern about your well being is barely trouble for us."

Ron sent Harry a slightly worrisome look as the brunet nodded a bit, a permanent frown etched onto his face.

"Now Harry," Lupin said, his expression turning oddly somber. "You need to tell us where you found that pendent."

Images of his last detention flashed across his mind, and Harry opened his mouth to respond. He realised that telling them the exact truth would cause them to immediately expect Draco, and he chewed his lip in thought.

"I found it in the Greenhouse," he said, a bit hesitantly. For some reason, he believed vehemently it wasn't Draco who was causing the havoc, so he figured a small lie wouldn't hurt…

"The same place I was sent the first letter actually," Harry lied.

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment, before nodding and standing up. "Is that so? Interesting."

Lupin followed him as he made his way out the door, promising to visit Harry once again before he left back to Grimmauld Place.

However, Snape sent him a suspicious look that was frighteningly similar to the expression Hermione was eyeing him with.

After the three had left, and the trio was left in silence once more, Hermione raised a brow. "Where did you really find it, Harry?"

The Gryffindor let out a long sigh, slumping his shoulders.

"Hermione," Ron said agitatedly, "You're should be resting. Who gives a _bloody_ _damn_ about that pendent right now!"

Harry smirked at Hermione who flushed at once. "Ron, I'm not eleven years old—I can take care of myself—"

"You can, can you? Is that why you're in here in the first place?" Ron said with a scowl, shoving the covers toward her feet and standing up, pulling Harry's sleeve toward the door.

"Harry, don't you dare think this distraction's made me forget! Where did you get that pendent?" Hermione called, her voice holding back the growl as Ron tried to push Harry through the frame of the door.

Finally letting out a frustrated snort, Harry pulled his sleeve back inside the room, causing Ron to stumble inside as well.

"During detention with Draco."

The commotion stopped and Hermione raised a brow, before Pomfrey interrupted their thoughtful silence.

"Out, out, _out!_"

x.x.x.x


End file.
